I hesitate to write this blog because there are no words. Words are inadequate substitutes for the pain. They can’t describe the depth to which humanity has strayed from our design. I haven’t yet assigned any rational thought to what has deeply stirred me. I don’t know if I will either. It is somewhat freeing not to have to name the emotion. To release the need to make sense of it all. It just doesn’t make any sense.
This past week I went with Tina to Kitgum training a group on conflict transformation. My co-trainer and good friend Anthony was with us. He got a phone call just before breakfast that shattered us. His cousin-brother was driving home to Gulu from Kampala and two kids who were playing ran into the street in front of him. He hit them and they died. Knowing that mob violence is common, it is advisable to go to the police rather than stop if something like that happens. But his cousin decided to go back and apologize toe the family of the children. A mob formed, armed with machetes and hoes. They killed him. Mercilessly and brutally, a death that I don’t even want to describe it was so gruesome and unimaginable. He was 24. The father of the children led the mob. The lack of mercy is confounding. Was it this war that desensitized them to violence that allowed normal human beings to mutilate a young man who’s worst sin might have been speeding? Does it make them feel better? Does the grieved father sleep more soundly knowing that he caused another father and mother to lose their son? That two families are now bereaved instead of one? I just can’t understand and it continues to sicken and disturb my core.